


There's Someone There

by ImaKaraTabiHe



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Fear gas, Ghosts, Gift Fic, Halloween, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Supernatural Elements, first kill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:45:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8428414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaKaraTabiHe/pseuds/ImaKaraTabiHe
Summary: Damian thought he was good at keeping his.. oddity from his family.  Unfortunately, when it comes to living with detectives nothing is a secret forever.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegalacticpope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegalacticpope/gifts).



“Everything okay, Dami?”

Damian looked up from his seat by the window of the two story café. Dick was frowning at him with concern. Obviously, Damian's lack of complaints about the coffee they'd gotten bothered him. “Nothing's wrong,” Damian replied, giving Dick a small, tight smile – he was trying to do that these days.

Dick didn't seem to believe him, but as usual, he was too soft to push the issue and for that Damian was grateful. “Well,” he hesitated, “if you're sure.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, Damian looked back at the street below them. “I'm sure,” he affirmed, eyes tracking a faded figure through the crowd. “Everything's fine. Just..fine.” He watched the figure vanish among the people.

Dick's brows furrowed, watching Damian's face carefully, but he couldn't find a tear in his lie. But he knew something was up. “Ready to go?”

A wisp caught his eyes in the air and he glanced up, lips quirking in a small smile as he saw a pale bird dart between the buildings. “Yeah,” Damian got up, finishing his coffee as he watched the bird fly into a building. “We best be on our way.”

Damian set his mug in the dirty dishes area as Dick trashed a napkin before doing the same. “You think Titus might like a new toy?” Dick questioned.

It was so out of left field that Damian raised a curious eyebrow. “Well, he wouldn't be opposed to it, I believe, but why?” Dick shrugged, “Halloween. He might like a new bone to chew.”

Damian stopped and stared at Dick for a moment with a look that asked 'are you stupid?'. “Oh,” he blinked. “Because bones are a part of your Hallow's Eve traditions?”

Chuckling, Dick shook his head before pausing in thought. “Well, kinda? Didn't you do Hallo-” Damian's unamused look made Dick clamp his mouth shut.

“No, Grayson. Grandfather isn't quite the Halloween type,” Damian shrugged. “He is, however, the type to use Halloween to his advantage.”

At Dick's curious look, Damian continued, “Everything's strange on Halloween here. It's the easiest time for assassinations and the like.”

Damian ignored Dick's pale, slightly disturbed face, regardless of the fact that Dick knew. It was one of the things he'd encountered being Robin. People used Halloween to their advantage to commit crimes. Made Halloween night so busy in Gotham.

“He'd like it,” Damian cut into Dick's thoughts. “Thank you.”

Dick made himself smile, made himself ignore all the anger and sadness bubbling up inside of him at the notion of Damian's years before them, before him. He wanted to scoop his little brother up and carry him away to safety. But – no place was safe for them. Not really. If being the Prince of Assassins wasn't dangerous enough, Damian was also Robin, patrolling Gotham at night and putting away criminals.

He knew Damian wouldn't have it any other way though, so he dealt with it. Didn't mean he had to like it though. Besides.. it's not like he could handle having Damian anywhere but his side. Having his little brother in reach was, to him, the safest place he could be.

“Grayson?” Dick turned to look at Damian whose brow was quirked and, despite, the annoyed look, looked concerned. “You suddenly stopped walking. Nearly hit some poor mother too.”

Dick winced. He hadn't realized that his concern had become so.. palpable in reality. He turned, looking for the mother, because he had to apologize if he could, but she was already gone. “She was in a bit of a hurry, but she asked if you were alright,” Damian explained. Dick nodded, slowly and a little confused for some reason, but he ignored it and continued walking when he noticed how Damian was tapping his foot on the pavement impatiently.

“Sorry, Dami,” he smiled, apologetically. Damian just rolled his eyes – fondly, Dick knows – and continued on.

  


Arriving back at the Mansion is a little.. quiet. Damian's too busy to notice how quiet though, because he smiles at the faint outline of a tail flicking in the air out of some bushes. “Something up, Dami?” Grayson asks from the door, holding it open.

“Just going to take a walk,” Damian tells him, waving him forward. He looks at Damian for a moment before shrugging and walking inside with one last, “Just stay warm and don't forget dinner will be in half an hour.”

“I know when dinner is, Grayson!” Damian calls after Dick just as the door shuts. “It's not like I haven't lived here long enough to figure that out,” he mutters to himself as he pads over to the bushes. Damian kneels down, “Hello there, Mitts.”

There's a soft, wavering 'meow', but seconds later a small tortoiseshell cat's head pops up out of the bushes. Mitts gives him another meow and walks right out from the bushes without another sound. Mitts purrs and goes to rub up against Damian's leg. “Oh, Mitts, you know you're just-” Mitts passes right _through_ him “-going to go right through me.”

He laughs silently and holds out his hand. “Silly cat,” he fondly murmurs as the cat tries to stroke itself on his hand, but slips through the solid hand. “You haven't been able to do that since you were alive.” Still Mitts tried to somehow cut through the barrier and be petted, as much in vain as that was.

  


Dick stood at the window, cup of coffee in his hand as he watches Damian smile at the bushes. He'd noticed sometimes that Damian would do that, twitch, but it was a Bat thing. Everyone was a bit more cautious and rightly so. It was simply part of their training, survival instinct, if you will.

“Do you think he's okay?”

Tim glanced up at Dick from his spot on the couch, laptop in his lap. “What are you talking about?” Dick gestured out the window and Tim huffed, setting his computer aside as he got up. He peeked out at what Dick was looking at and raised an eyebrow. “He looks fine to me. Is there something you're worried about?”

After he took another gulp of coffee, Dick shrugged. “I don't know. He just gets so.. fidgetty sometimes.”

“'Fidgetty'?” Tim sent Dick a look that appeared to be a cross between disinterest and bland curiosity. “What on earth are you talking about?”

Running a hand through his hand, Dick sighed. “I don't know. It's just.. sometimes I look at him and it looks like he's seeing something I'm not.”

Thoughtfully, Tim looked back out at Damian, watching as their youngest reached out and seemed to brush a hand against the bush's leaves. He'd noticed it too. Sometimes he just.. seemed to look through a person. There was recognition in his eyes when there wasn't anything to recognize.

“I'm certain Young Master Damian is perfectly fine.”

The two former Robins turned to see Alfred standing in the doorway. The butler held a pot of coffee, looking unamused at their spying. “How can you be sure, Alfred?” Dick questioned, holding out his cup for Alfred to refill it. Tim had muddled over to the coffee table and got his mug for Alfred to refill it.

Alfred raised an eyebrow at him. “Young Master Damian has simply inherited the famous 'Bat Paranoia'. You and Master Drake both share the same traits – twitchiness, on guard, etc. It appears to be more pronounced in Young Master Damian because of his former lifestyle.”

Tim and Dick exchanged glances with each other, the realization of Alfred's words. “I imagine the al Ghul's didn't allow him the luxury of relaxation,” Alfred ended.

Dick nodded, slowly. He could understand Damian being more prone to paranoia and suspicion than they were, because he'd been an assassin until he came to live with them. There seemed to be something more.. “Is that all it is, though, I wonder...” he considered aloud. Tim's brows furrowed and Alfred frowned slightly.

“You think its something else?” Tim asked.

Turning back to look at Damian, he replied, “In our lives? Definitely.”

  


“Hey Dami?”

Robin looked up from his perch on the ledge. “Code names in the field, Nightwing,” he reminded his elder. Nightwing shrugged, waving off Robin's criticism.

“Is something bothering you?” Nightwing powered on.

“ _~You know, he's really overbearing sometimes.~”_ a voice said. Robin glanced over to his left. Sitting beside him on the ledge was a near transparent elder male, about Nightwing's age. Robin didn't have to see his uniform to tell that he was a League member. He knew.

“He's not overbearing..” Robin muttered softly. The male raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. _“~Bullshit.~”_

“Little Bat?”

Robin turned his head to look at Nightwing, his elder brother's face a concerned frown. “Nothing's bothering me.”

“ _~Lies.~”_ The ghostly male said. _“~I'm bothering you.~”_ Robin closed his eyes, tight, to restrain himself from responding to him.

“Are you sure?” Nightwing questioned, adamant. Robin nodded, getting up to stretch. “Yeah,” he replied. “I'm sure. Let's get going, Nightwing. Crime doesn't wait for us.”

Hesitating for a moment, Nightwing nodded before he took off. Robin let him go, holding back for a moment to glare at the man. “Just because I killed you, doesn't mean you should stick around, Anri.”

Anri grinned at him, fingering his ghost weapons hung at his hip.  _“~That's exactly why I stick around.~”_ His voice was smug and Damian wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his ghost face, but he knew the attempt would be in vain.

“Fine,” Robin told him. “Stick around. Just shut up.” Anri hummed and flew after Robin as he flung himself, following Nightwing. _“~It's going to be a lovely night,~”_ Anri grinned, evilly.

  


Two muggers and an attempted rapist in, Anri's words echoed eeriely in Robin's head.  _“~Feeling curious?~”_ Robin ignored Anri's taunting.

When he'd first discovered his ability to see ghosts, Damian had worked very hard in order to project energy to keep them away from him. He knew he mostly owed his shield to the fact that he had taken a sip of Lazarus Pit water. It had given him.. more abilities than he'd had before, but with it, he gained control and power over himself.

Anri, however, never went away, no matter how hard Damian willed him to. It was like the shield wasn't enough. He'd simply pass through it whenever and wherever he pleased.

Maybe it was because…  _“~I was your first kill.~”_ Anri hissed in his ear all of a sudden making Robin jump.

“Damnit, Anri!” Robin swore in a low tone.

  


Nightwing's eyes narrowed as he watched Robin jump, swearing. Oh yeah, this was beyond strange. Damian didn't jump. Especially not when there was no reason to. He watched as his little brother took a few deep, steadying breaths.

“We're going home,” Nightwing stated. He couldn't take much more of this mystery, of the worry. Seeing Damian jump like that? That was the kicker for the night. It wasn't purely worry, though. If Damian was startled like that by seemingly nothing, how could he make it through the rest of the night without getting hurt? No, it was best to call it a night if he couldn't focus. Safer that way.

He wasn't surprised when Robin's head whipped to him, glaring daggers. “What? Why?” It was time to try and reason with him, or.. a few extra, not to the point reasons.

“Red Robin's with Batman, and Hood's got thing's covered on his end, I don't see why we can't retire a little early,” Nightwing explained. “Plus, I'm feeling pretty hungry. And we need to get ready for our own trick-or-treating.” He was a tad bit peckish, but not _that_ hungry. If it helped, though, he'd eat lots. Then he'd try and pry whatever was bothering his little brother out of him.

Robin hesitated, but agreed. It was much faster than what Nightwing had expected. Did he want to go home too? If so, why? 'Questions, questions.. What are you hiding, Little D?'

“Okay, then!” Nightwing chirped. “Let's head back and--” The communication system beeped, interrupting him.

“ _Robin, Nightwing – Scarecrow's on the loose two blocks South. Batman, Red Robin, and Red Hood are still a little busy. You two are on.”_ Oracle's voice echoed over the speaker.

Nightwing wanted to swear, to say 'no', but he knew he couldn't. He looked at Robin, grimacing at the thought of not being able to take him back to where it was safe to talk, to hug him. “We're on it,” Nightwing replied into the comm.

“Robin, let's--” Nightwing cut himself off as he saw the flash of Robin's cape twist in the wind. He sighed, “You couldn't wait for me, Dami?” Needing to make sure his little brother was okay, he quickly ran after Robin.

  


“ _~Remember that time you first met me?~”_ Anri questioned, floating alongside Robin, who was doing his best to ignore his ghostly companion as he leaped over a rooftop ledge. _“~You were so small, I felt like I was going to rip you to pieces when Talia told me to train you. Small, but so **proud**.~”_

Damian gritted his teeth, wishing he had ear plugs. He didn't want to remember. He never wanted to remember it ever again. Still.. the memories wouldn't be stopped so easily.

He remembers meeting Anri, looking up at the young man who was well muscled and looked extremely limber. Anri was his first instructor in the League. He'd taught Damian everything he knew, talked him through his first live or die test.

He'd also been Damian's first kill.

“ _~Always thought I'd end up killing you. You were like a baby animal.~”_ Robin stumbled, barely catching himself as his breath caught in his throat.

He remembers that. Remembers being told that he looked like a 'baby panther'. Anri had ruffled his air and grinned down at him when he'd made a sound so familiar to hissing. “Shut up..” Robin growled.

Anri smirked at Robin, knowing exactly what he was doing.  _ “~And you practically preened when I praised you.~” _

“Shut up...”

“ _~Helped you get to medical when you broke your first bone,~”_ Anri continued, driving Robin closer to the edge.

“Just.. shut your mouth..”

Anri leaned over Robin, whispering as if it was the most important secret in the world,  _ “~You called me.. _ _**brother** _ _.~” _

“ _Shut up!”_ Robin snapped suddenly, unfocused and emotionally out of control. His mind was whirling with fear, guilt, shame.. His heart was utter chaos as it tried to harden itself, but each time it continued to break.

  


“Robin! Look out!” Robin's brows furrowed, hand clutching at his heart as if he could hold himself together. 'Look out'? For what? He forced himself to look around and his stomach dropped like the time he'd fallen from a cliff.

He'd lost track of where he was, of where he had been headed, of  _ whom he had been headed to. _ A few feet to his left, there was Scarecrow. There was something sparking in the air, some kind of hissing sound like… gas.

Damian was frozen as fear gas hit him, finding its way inside of him, slipping through the cracks and he was breathing he just  _ couldn't breathe. _

Anri chuckled, eyes locking with his as the gas started to take affect.  _ “~Sweet dreams, baby panther.~” _

Sounds, touch, sight, smell.. everything faded away and Damian was left in darkness with his heart pounding like a stampede of elephants.  His blood pulsed in his veins heavily.

  


_[-Ding, ding, ding.-_ _A bell rang in the distance. Damian sighed as he crouched on a tree branch overlooking a small city. “What are we doing here Anri?” he questioned. Anri grinned down at him from a higher branch. “We're completing a mission.”_

_Damian rolled his eyes. “I know that. But why am I wearing this.. this monstrosity?” The spandex itched and he honestly didn't understand why he was dressed like some kind of botched attempt at being a ninja. At least he'd been allowed to keep his real weapons. Damian would **not** carry around those flimsy plastic ones that Anri had shown him. Who could he possibly kill with those?_

_It made him cringe to think about how he actually fit in with all the children he saw bustling about in the streets. Some wore brightly colored costumes, while others wore imitations of monsters. They carried bags or plastic pumpkins around._

“ _No.” Damian stated, glaring at Anri. “There is no way I am going to join in their pathetic celebration.”_

_Anri raised an eyebrow, smiling a little. “It's the perfect way to blend in.” Damian hated it when he made sense, but couldn't they just go in stealthy? No need to play dress up. “And because I'm telling you to.”_

_Damian threw a knife at Anri, scowling as the elder teen caught it with a grin. “You're going to go down there, celebrate Halloween, get the info and come back with a bag full of candy or else I won't teach you any more about poisons.” He loved learning about poisons, Anri knew._

“ _Fine. Fine,” Damian growled as he jumped onto the ground, but as soon as he touched down. The world went still and silent._

“ _Anri?” Damian called, looking up to find the tree empty._

“ _Anri!?” He whirled around. “Anri!” But there was no response._

_-Drip, drip- Something fell onto his face. The scent of iron whaffed over him and he choked on the overwhelming smell. “What the..” He wiped his face and look down at his hand to find blood smeared on his hand._

“ _Look at what you did, Baby Panther.” Damian spun around to see Anri, standing there with blood running down his face. His head dangled from his neck, only partially attached to the rest of his body. Damian felt sick._

_He remembered that. Something felt heavy in his other hand and he glanced down to find the very sword he'd used to nearly severe his teacher's head. “Why'd you do it?” Anri's lifeless body asked._

_Damian shuddered and threw down the sword. “It-- It wasn't.. I didn't want to!” he cried. He still remembered the feeling of the impact, slicing through tissue, flesh, muscle, and bone. It was sickening._

“ _You did this to me.” Anri stepped forward slowly, bloody arms reaching out. “You did this to all of us.”_

_Something grabbed Damian's ankle and tugged hard enough to make him stumbled. He looked down, eyes wide with terror to see other faces he recognized. There were five of them – they were the people he'd killed. “You did this to us,” they cried out. “You murdered us.”_

_Nails bit into his skin and he felt the cold chill of a knife slicing into his body. He struggled as hands grabbed onto him, clawing him, gripping him. “But you can make it up to us,” Anri smirked, teeth red with blood._

_Anri leaned in, face in Damian's and breathed, “Die.”_

  


Nightwing was numb with horror as he traded cautious blows with Scarecrow. He had to be careful not to wind up with a face full of fear gas himself. If he did, he wouldn't be able to help Robin, yet he hated not being able to fly to his side immediately. He couldn't though, not with the danger of Scarecrow.

'Secure the area, then get help' – that was the best course of action, the correct one, but it didn't lessen the worry as he heart his little brother whimper in fear. Sure, he'd heard Scarecrow trying to get into his head. It was what he did. “Waste anymore time and the bird will suffer,” Scarecrow was saying. It made Nightwing grind his teeth with anger.

As soon as Nightwing saw an opening to take Scarecrow out, he took it. It might've been a bit brutal to break a bone or two, but he couldn't bring himself to care. As soon as Scarecrow crumbled, he was running and yelling into his comm. “Robin's down!”

He hears voices in his ear from his brothers and Batman, but he can't be bothered as he drops to his knees in front of Robin. He sees the wide eyes, the pale face, the trembling and it hurts so badly. “Anri..” He hears Damian's weak voice beg as he digs through his pack for the antidote they all carry.

'Who is Anri?' Dick swallows his questions as he watches his little brother's mouth crack up and suddenly Robin's screaming, writhing on the ground, clawing at himself like there's something holding onto him. “Damian,” Nightwing he pleads. “Damian, calm down. You're okay.” He doesn't bother to tear off part of Robin's uniform before plunging the antidote into his skin.

“You're okay,” he repeats, praying that he'll hear and know that he's safe. Robin's hand lashes out and Nightwing winces as a hand whacks his cheek heavily. “Damian..” His heart breaks when he sees the shine of tears on Damian's cheeks. He's afraid to know what he's seeing, angry at the reasons why, and he just wanted to scoop Damian up and protect him from the world.

Footsteps thump behind him and he doesn't bother to look away from Damian as Batman and Red Robin tie Scarecrow up. Nightwing assumes he's still out, because he hasn't heard a peep from the bastard. “How is he?” Batman's gruff voice questions.

Nightwing glances away from the way his brother is shaking and crying, begging to be free, but it's not long before he looks back at Damian, afraid he'll disappear or something. “It was a large dose,” he chokes out. “I gave him the antidote, but.. it hasn't changed anything so far.” Not that it worked fast, but it was supposed to show some signs of working.

“Don't-” Nightwing tried to stop Batman from reaching out to Damian, but he didn't warn him in time. Robin's leg swung out, kicking Batman's hand right at the wrist as he scrambled away from the bat themed vigilante. Batman drew his hand back quickly, shaking the pain away.

“We need to get him back to the Bat Cave,” Batman told him. Nightwing looked at Damian, really looked at him, and saw the way the mask couldn't hide the fear on his face. He needed help. Maybe a second or third dose of antidote.

“Red Robin,” Batman spoke up and Red Robin slid over to where they were. “Help Nightwing get Robin back to the Bat Cave. I'll make sure Scarecrow gets turned over to the police.” Batman glared at the unconscious villain, satisfied to see him gagged as well. He'd probably break the man's jaw if he tried to say anything about Robin.

Red Robin slide passed Nightwing and dodged Robin's flailing limbs before delivering a quick hit to Robin's press point. When Red Robin stepped back, Nightwing gratefully took Damian into his arms and held him close. “Don't worry, Dami. I've got you.”

  


It felt like he'd been thrown off a roof. His body ached and his throat was sore as he woke up. _“~Oooh, look who's awake.~”_ Damian's eyes shot open and his body jerked, trying to get away from the source of the voice.

Anri chuckled as Damian fell off the bed and onto the cold, hard floor of the Bat Cave. Damian shook with weakness and cold, dragging the blanket over his body and clinging to it like a lifeline. “Go away, Anri,” he hissed, but it came out with a pitiful sound.

“Dami?”

Damian glared at Anri, though it came out less heated than he hoped. “Go away!” He spotted the pillow he'd had his head on prior to waking and his hand snapped out, grabbing it. “Leave me alone,” his false bravery barely holding on as he threw the pillow. Unfortunately, it only made Anri laugh as it passed right through his traslucent form. _“~Enjoy whatever's left of your precious dignity.~”_ Anri told him and then he faded through the cave wall.

“Damian?”

He took a shuddering breath before he reached up and used the bed to help himself up. “What, Grayson?”

Dick frowned, seeing his younger brother out of bed, trying discretely and failing to hide the fact that he was using the bed to prop himself up. “Dami, are you okay?”

Damian opened his mouth to say 'yes', but somehow.. it wouldn't come out. “I'm not sure,” is what came out instead. His brows furrowed as he registered his own words, whilst his elder brother's shoulders tensed with concern.

“I mean,” he tried to correct himself, “I'm alright, Grayson.” It was shoddy and Damian knew Grayson wasn't stupid enough to believe him. Had he believed Damian, it would've surely been a sign that something was terribly, horribly wrong.

“Damian..” Dick attempted to ask. Damian shook his head. “I'm tired, Grayson.. I'm just.. just tired.”

“You shouldn't be up,” Tim spoke as he approached them, eyes critically assessing Damian's condition. The boy's face was pale and, despite the fact that they'd managed to snap him out of the fear gas with a stronger version of the antidote, it still looked like he was suffering under its influences.

“I'm _fine,”_ Damian gritted out.

Tim and Dick exchanged glances, having a silent conversation before they looked back at Damian. “No, you're not,” Tim stressed, quietly daring Damian to prove otherwise.

“I am perfectly capable, Drake,” Damian narrowed his eyes at Tim.

Dick stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest with the brotherly authority he seemed to have. It was gentle but as strong as ever. “Damian, what's going on?”

Damian looked away from them. He couldn't hide it anymore, but he didn't want to admit it. He'd been able to sell his “quirks” as products of being nurtured by the League of Assassins. “Mother made sure to ingrain the dangers of being caught unaware to me,” Damian had told them when they'd asked about the way his eyes would slip away from them and search the area. They'd bought it then. It wouldn't happen again.

“I.. it's nothing,” Damian protested, eyes trained away from them. Could he be more obvious?

“It's not nothing, Damian,” Tim insisted. “It's obvious there's something wrong.”

“Please, Damian. If there's something wrong then let us help you,” Dick pressed. “We're family.”

Damian's eyes shot up to meet their's and his face paled further. All he could hear was Anri telling him that they were a “family”. If Anri and he had been a family and Damian had killed Anri.. “No.” He fled with as much dignity as he could.

It didn't occur to Damian that saying 'no' would set off alarms so high even the estranged Red Hood would take notice, at the time. Damian suddenly not wanting to be connected to the Wayne family name despite having rubbed it in their faces when he'd first arrived? Dick looked at Tim. “Think Halloween can deal without us this year?”

Tim frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “No, but I know some people who owe me -” he looked at Dick and corrected himself, “- _us_ favors.” Dick nodded in approval, staring at the doorway Damian had fled through. He vaguely recognized Tim's voice behind him, calling for replacements.

Something was wrong with their youngest and they'd be damned if they didn't find out. Dick sighed and went to report to Bruce. It was going to be a long night if he couldn't convince the big bad Bat that Damian needed them. _All_ of them.

  


A soft meow made Damian look up from his pillow. Despite his earlier difficulties, he found himself relaxing as Mitts sat on the foot of his bed. “Mitts,” he huffed out fondly. “I can never comprehend how you manage to find me when I'm feeling blue.”

Mitts meowed and stared up at him with big, green eyes. “Silly cat..” Damian smiled, already forgetting the terrible possibility of Anri returning, of his nightmares, of his ghosts. Mitts gave another soft meow and then padded up towards the head of his bed where he'd curled up at.

Once at the head of his bed, Mitts reached out and tried to bat at Damian's cheek. Damian shivered a little as Mitts' paw passed through his cheek. He couldn't help but smile though when Mitts curled up beside him, purring. “I can keep other ghosts away, but you and Anri..” He shook his head. “I just cannot understand.”

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw them. Every time he heard a noise, he thought it was Anri returning. Shame burned inside of him for being so afraid, for feeling so helpless. If only he were normal.. Normal people didn't have to deal with the dead bothering them. Normal people didn't hear or see ghosts.

A glimmer of blue caught his eye and he looked over at his closet door. Hanging from it was the Nightwing Halloween costume that Grayson had got for him, promising that tonight they'd go trick-or-treating after patrol. Like a normal child. Like a normal family.

Damian averts his eyes. He can't bare to look at it.

So much for Halloween..

  


“What do you mean he's actin' funny?” Jason asked, lounging on the couch with his limbs spread every which way just to annoy his family.

Bruce had his hands folded in front of him, looking critically at the others. “I mean,” Dick continued, “there's something wrong.”

Jason shrugged. “There's always something wrong when it comes to him. Sometimes it's not enough sugar in his tea or whatever.”

Dick gave Jason the stink eye. “He drinks his tea without sugar.” Jason waved it off. “I'm just saying,” Jason continued, “how do you know this time it's serious?”

“Because he ran away,” Tim stated. Jason paused, brows furrowing. Bruce closed his eyes, silent and still. “What happened?” Bruce questioned.

“Well..” Dick began to explain everything with Tim throwing in his observations as well as the fact that Damian needed more antidote than normal.

“So.. You think you heard him talking to someone in the Bat Cave?” Jason sat up, attentive. While Bruce asked, “He said he wasn't sure if he was okay?” They looked at each other, startled, before looking back at Tim and Dick.

Tim nodded.

There was silence as they thought through things; thought about Damian and how he'd been acting. Jason was having a hard time distinguishing what was normal with Damian and what wasn't, but there was an idea.. “Do you think it could have some connection to the League?”

It was highly possible. Despite the way Talia had dropped Damian off at Bruce's doorstep, she had shown up time and time again looking to have Damian returned to her. “It's possible,” Bruce frowned. He didn't like to think of Damian keeping a League member in Gotham a secret, but something was off. He would've known, wouldn't he? So if it wasn't a League member, then what was it?

Dick was practically gnawing at his lip as he tried to think of what Damian could be keeping from them. It was plain that the boy had wanted to tell them something earlier. 'Ugh.. I should've paid more attention,' Dick chided himself. 'I should've been there for every time he...flinched.'

Damian flinched – often sometimes – as if he was startled by a sudden appearance of someone or something.

Forgetting the rest of them, Dick spun on his heels and marched out the door. Maybe Damian would tell him now. If not.. he'd ask. He didn't want Damian to feel alone. He wanted to be there to help him with anything he needed.

He stopped outside of Damian's door and took a deep breath. “Damian?” he called, knocking lightly on the door.

“Go away, Grayson,” a muffled voice replied.

Dick raised an eyebrow. He could do that. Would he, though? No. He turned the knob, opening the door and walking in. His eyes fell upon the bed, spotting Damian curled up on it. The former assassin didn't even twitch.

“Damian..”

“I'm fine, Grayson. I just want to rest..”

“Dami-”

“I'm not going trick-or-treating, Grayson. So..so leave me be!”

With a pinched expression Dick looked over at the closet door, store bought Nightwing costume hanging from the outside. “That's not.. I don't care about that, Dami. I'm just worried about you,” Dick sighed, taking a seat on the bed beside Damian's curled up form.

“Halloween doesn't matter right now,” he assured him. “We're all worried about you.” Dick bit his lip a little, nervous to continue. “You're keeping something from us.”

Damian's head jerked towards him, eyes wide for a brief moment before narrowing. “I'm not hiding anything from you,” Damian protested with gritted teeth.

“You are.”

“No.. I'm not!” Damian hissed.

“You are!” Dick sighed, slowly reaching out and resting his hand on Damian's head, threading his fingers through his little brother's hair. “You were going to tell us earlier, I know you were. So why did you stop?” Damian remained silent. “Did you think we wouldn't believe you? Is it dangerous?”

“Damia-”

“Yes!” he interrupted. “Yes, I'm keeping things from you.” Dick's heart fell. “I don't..” Damian tried to look away, but Dick followed him. Dick's heart clenched as he spotted tears glistening on his cheeks. “You can't do anything about it.”

“Why not?” Dick dogged. “If something's the matter I'm – we're all here for you.”

“Because you can't!” Damian yelled, choking up. “None of you can!”

Dick froze, frowning. If there was anyone aware of the roads to or from a goal, it was Damian. He tended to follow after Bruce in finding ways to attain his goal. “No one living can..” Damian's voice softly whispered.

“What do you mean?” Dick glanced at the door to see Bruce, Tim, and Jason standing there, watching.

“Nothing. Nothing. Go away!” Damian shouted, voice hoarse.

Dick reached out and gripped Damian's chin in a gentle strong hold, making him meet his gaze. “It's not nothing, Dami. We all know that,” he softly assured him. “Please..” he plead, “tell us. I can't bare to see you suffer.”

Damian's sharp vision found Bruce, Tim, and Jason. Tim nodded. Bruce inclined his head slightly, face serious. Jason huffed, “We may not be the best family, but.. we are one. We help one another out.”

Everyone was equally surprised to hear those words from Jason's mouth, although Dick smirked. He knew the second eldest was fluffy somewhere under his hard shell.

“I..” Damian's last resolve to keep the matter to himself a secret starting to crumble.

“No matter what you say,” Tim reassured him, “we'll believe you.”

Damian sighed, brushing away Dick's hand as he sat up. He moved carefully as if there was something precious that shouldn't be disturbed on his bed. “Promise?”

“We promise, Damian,” Bruce replied.

Damian nodded slowly, gathering his thoughts and trying to compose a way to not make himself seem even more insane than he knew they'd thought when he'd first arrived. “Holy shit.”

Everyone looked at Jason in confusion. The confounded look on his face alerting them to the fact that he'd come across some sort of knowledge they weren't privilege to. Jason pointed next to Damian.

Heads swiveled, trying to see what it is that had Jason in such a state. “Oh.” Damian noticed it. There was a small indentation in the pillow beside him. Underneath Mitts. His ghost cat friend. “I can explain that..” he mumbled.

Dick raised an eyebrow.

Damian let out a breath. “Come here, Mitts,” he beckoned. The ghost cat blinked at him and stood. Mitts' back arched as the cat stretches with an annoyed meow. “I know, I know.. You being woken up from a nap.” Mitts meows in affirmation.

The sheets shift as Mitts pads over to Damian. He holds out a hand and snorts fondly as the cat tries to rub up against his hand to be pet. Of course it doesn't work out, but he finds it amusing. “This..” He gestures to the small indentation. “- is Mitts. Mitts is a ghost cat.”

“I'm sorry, what?” Tim blinks.

“I think I get it,” Dick speaks up. His eyes are doing the same thing the other three are, examining the bed, thinking through everything. “You can see.. dead people?”

Damian rolls his eyes, letting Mitts' purr keep him as relaxed as possible. “And dead creatures, Grayson.”

“How?” Bruce questions. Damian shrugs. “I've had this.. ability ever since I can remember. Grandfather knows, but we kept it hidden from Mother. I think he once possessed this ability. He taught me how to project a barrier to keep.. things from getting to me. It's not 100% but it has helped.”

“The people you've killed,” Jason breathes out in mind-numbing realization. Damian nods at Jason. “Yes,” he admitted. Damian closed his eyes, willing the pained looks on his family's face to disappear as he continued, “Sometimes they go away, sometimes they try to.. bother me. And sometimes..” His face twisted up. “Sometimes I can't keep them away.. Can't keep _him_ away.”

“'Him'? Who is he?” Dick asked.

Damian sighed, letting his eyes open and looking down at Mitts. He imagines stroking Mitts' fur as he's often done with Alfred after a long day dealing with his otherworldly menaces. He reaches out and lets his fingertips dance just above the cat's head. “Anri. An old teacher when I was in the League. A friend.. And the first person whose life I took.”

His family inhales sharply at the mention of Damian's first kill. Damian forces himself not to focus on it. “He.. It was a test from Mother and Grandfather. I.. Anri was always very considerate of my position yet when their eyes weren't on him, he took me places and showed me things..” Damian's eyes flicked up to Dick's and then down again. “Like Halloween. He took me to my first Halloween.”

Shrugging, he continues, “I guess Mother and Grandfather didn't approve. In reality, it could've been anyone. It was a test to show one's dedication to learn the art of assassination, so it shouldn't have been Anri. Yet it was.”

“His face was covered as we fought. It couldn't end until one of us was dead. I didn't know it was him until I overcame him, cutting away his mask.” Damian's breath hitched. “But it was him..” Everyone could see the way Damian blinked rapidly to keep tears from falling. His shoulders were shaking with effort to hold himself together.

“I killed Anri and now.. he never leaves for long.”

“ _~Boo!~”_

Damian started, saved from falling off his bed by Dick's fast acting. “Anri.” Anri floated in the air, body halfway through the ceiling with a smirk.  _“~Finally telling your new family about me?~”_

Dick held Damian close,  suppressing a shudder as the room's temperature did a nose dive. Tim, Bruce, and Jason we nt  still, muscles tense. “ Damian?”

Mitts hissed and jumped up, clawing at Anri. Anri batted the cat off of him.  _“~That furball really loves you.~”_

“Go away, Anri,” Damian voiced, barely audiable. Anri scoffed. _“~No. Not until they know everything.~”_

He wants them to know? Dick's arms tighten around him, but Damian's thoughts are spinning. Anri wants them to know about everything? “Why?” slipped out before he could stop it.

Anri slid down from the ceiling, twisting his body so he could float as if he were laying on his side. _“~Because you're a stubborn baby panther and you've been keeping this from them since you arrived. I've seen you shrug off their concerns and throw yourself in the line of fire way too much.~”_

His former teacher glares daggers at Bruce. _“~And some of them need to get it through their thick skulls that you're not some heartless killer.~”_ Damian tilts his head, conflicted. “You.. Why?”

“ _~Because, I'm worried about you.~”_

Damian shakes his head. “You're not. You can't be..” Anri waves off Damian's protests. _“~I can and I am.~”_

“But I.. I killed you,” Damian chokes up.

“ _~You did,~”_ Anri nods, _“~but that wasn't your fault. We both had no choice. I don't hate you for it, despite what you saw under that mad man's influence.~”_ Anri shifts, putting an arm around Dick, who freezes. _“~Now tell them everything or else I will never go away.~”_

Damian stares at Anri for a little while, finding it difficult to believe that the same Anri who would frighten him sometimes.. the same Anri that he'd killed.. That Anri would.. 'Is he.. caring for me?'

“Damian?” Bruce softly questions.

He turns to his father, blinking. “I - .. Anri is here.” Jason rubs his arms. “That explains a lot,” the elder former Robin mutters. Jason flinches when Anri floats over and flicks his forehead. Not that Jason could tell. Only Damian knew.

“What does he want?” Dick questioned.

“He.. He wants me to tell you about my time in the League.”

“ _~Everything you haven't told them.~”_

“Everything I've.. kept from you,” Damian echoed.

“ _~And everything that they forget.~”_ Anri narrows his eyes at them.

“..And 'everything that you forget' too,” Damian fiddles with the end of Dick's sleeve. Jason winces and Bruce frowns. Tim looks a little guilty.

“Tell us,” Dick gently urges. “It'll be okay.”

“ _~Hmm.. I think I like this one,~”_ Anri says, gesturing at Dick. Damian nods a little, unconsciously. _“~Start with the day we first met.~”_ Anri insists. _“~Tell them about it.. Tell them about everything.~”_

It's not easy and Anri threatens to never leave him again, telling him he'll be there every step of his life to bug him unless Damian tells them everything. He has to stop every now and then for Mitts to meow, encouragingly, and for the memories to dull down enough to continue.

He tries not to see the way they flinch whenever he tells them about being sensory deprived as part of his training. He doesn't let himself dwell on the way their eyes darken when he discusses the various punishments he'd received until he'd perfected his training. He doesn't let himself falter when he tells them about how his Grandfather killed one of the servants who he'd befriended in front of him once.

And he tells them about Anri – the assassin-teacher who taught Damian how to use his sword, who told him jokes and taught him about life outside of the League, who'd taken him to his first Halloween celebration. He tells them about how he'd secretly enjoyed having Anri as both a teacher and a pseudo-family member, how warm Anri had made him feel.

Then he told them about the way Anri's blood had splattered over his hands and dipped down his cheek. Damian remembers pulling off the mask that had hidden his opponent's identity from him. He tells them, in very broken sentences, what it was like to see Anri's once bright eyes, dull with the absence of life. He doesn't forget to mention the pride and satisfaction he'd seen on his Mother and Grandfather's faces. It had been planned.

Anri listens with closed eyes while Dick strokes Damian's hair gently. He reaches out to wipe a tear from Damian's face, but frowns in pain when his hand passes through Damian's cheek. He looks a little better when Dick does it for him.

“ _~And your abilities..~”_ Anri reminds him. _“~Don't forget to tell them about those.~”_

And Damian complies. He tells them about drinking from the Lazarus Pit to gain control of his abilities. Damian tells them about how he'd first realized there were people in the League's compound that were walking around with parts of their bodies blown off or ripped to shreds and how he'd realized what they were. He doesn't forget to tell them about how Anri had been the first of several more to come to follow him around.

He can't leave out Gotham and the amount of dead he's seen there. When their faces fall, Damian hurriedly reminds them that they aren't all bad. He makes a point to remind them about Mitts. Not everything is bad, after all.

“For keeping this from you.. I'm sorry,” Damian finally concludes.

It's silent in the room except for Mitts' purring. Anri finally seems to perk up again, looking a lot less like the fearful being that had been haunting him and a lot more like the Anri he'd seen before, the one who'd befriended him. _“~Oh, don't just stand there,~”_ Anri complains and moves behind Tim, Jason, and Bruce and _pushes._

They stumble forward, confounded before they remember they aren't the only ones in there. Jason swears at Anri under his breath, not enjoying being pushed around by anyone living or dead. Tim looks slightly disturbed, but shakes it off. Bruce doesn't pay it any mind, like it's no big deal.

“Damian..” Bruce says, kneeling beside the bed to be on eye level with Damian. “It's alright.” Anri was quiet, but alert and attentive to everyone in that room.

“It's okay, Damian,” Dick continued. “You're never going to go back there. Never again.” Damian could feel the righteous anger radiating off of his eldest brother. He hated the fact that he put it there, but he doubts Anri would let him talk himself out of telling them this time.

“Look, kid. We're not the sappiest family there is, but we do care about you.” Jason nodded to Tim. “I know you fight with him because you aren't sure how else to go about it.”

Tim nods. “We have our.. issues, but I don't dislike you. It might've been hard at first, but you're my baby brother and I should've realized.. should've known what you'd gone through instead of egging you on all the time.”

Damian shrugs, helplessly. He can't forget the fact that he's a murderer. It's been made so plain to him ever since he arrived that he's tainted with the blood of those whose lives he's taken. “No,” Dick interrupts his self-hatred.

He makes him look at him. “Don't do that yourself,” Dick begs. “I can see the way that your past eats you up inside and I hate it. I swore to myself that I'd protect you, but.. I can't protect you from yourself and I hate that.”

Damian wants to look away from the broken look on Dick's face, but a whispered command from Anri has him frozen in place. Anri wants him to see that they don't hate him, that they aren't afraid of him, and that he matters to them.

It's overwhelming and Damian finds himself sobbing into Dick's shirt. It's too much to think that they forgive and accept him, that they actually love him. It's too much and yet it's the truth that they're showing in their actions and their words as they whisper that it's okay to him and touch him in reassuring ways like holding his hand, or rubbing his back.

Everyone had been so distracted by their own fears that they'd missed the signs. Damian had missed that they were worried about him, and they, in turn, had missed just how terrifying and traumatizing Damian's past had been. There was no denying the amount of horrific things Damian had gone through while he was being raised by the League.

They curled up, Bruce and Jason partially hanging off the bed. It was warm and the closest they'd all been with each other without having to be back to back in a fight. They were a family.

“..Do you think we can go trick-or-treating next year?” Damian whispered from his place in the big ball of bats.

Dick reached out and ruffled Damian's hair. “No doubts about that.” He'd make sure they could. He might have to owe a few people, but for his little brother? He'd do anything.

  


They all ended up down in the living room, pulling out blankets and popping in a Halloween movie Damian had never seen. Alfred brought in pizzas, popcorn, and some sodas. Dick's stolen Damian and has him securely on his lap. Jason's on the other couch, because “this popcorn is his and no one is taking it”. Tim sits on Dick's left, while Bruce takes his right.

“Try these.” Tim offers a pumpkin shaped Reece's to Damian. “But, it's the same as the round ones,” Damian frowns.

“No, it's much better,” Dick insists. “Try it.” Damian shrugs and pops one in his mouth, savoring the chocolate as it melts and for some reason it _does_ taste better. He wonders if it's the shape that counts.

“So did you ever meet Elvis?” Jason asks, offhandedly.

“Jason!” Dick scolds.

Damian raises an eyebrow. “Elvis is dead.”

Jason gives him a look that says “I'm not amused, answer the damn question already”.

“No, I've never seen Elvis,” Damian says, rolling his eyes. Jason looks a little unhappy and goes back to watching the movie. “But I did see Genghis Khan.”

Popcorn falls onto the floor as Jason stares at Damian, jaw slack and eyes wide with awe.

  


“ _~Meow~”_ Anri looks down at the fellow ghost. He smiles a little as he reaches down and picks up the ghost, the two of them floating in midair as they watch Damian and his new family together.  'That's the way it should be,' Anri acknowledges. _“~I always said you look a lot better when you smile, Baby Panther.~”_

He'd stayed, not to torment Damian, although it had seemed that way at times, but because he cared and was worried. He hated the Damian that the League tugged around, hated the way Talia al Ghul seemed to make it her goal to tear down anything that made Damian seem like a normal child.

Anri had been so happy when Talia had left Damian with Batman and his new family, but that happiness had been wiped clean when Anri realized how judgmental and afraid they were of him. Damian certainly hadn't helped them to understand him with the way he remained distant and cold.

It was only now that, after “haunting” Damian for so long, he'd finally been able to get his baby panther to come clean to them. Sure, there had been problems on both sides, but Anri could tell that they did care for one another. That's all he could ask for – someone to care for the friend.. the little brother that he'd left behind when he was killed.

“ _~Take care of him,~”_ Anri murmured to the unsuspecting Bat Family. _“~Or I'll make you regret not doing so.~”_

Anri took one last look at Damian, relaxed and content in his brother's arms. He'd be okay now. Maybe he'd go and see Damian again next Halloween. He wanted to be sure that Dick fellow was showing Damian the ropes after all. For now, though, all was as it should be.  _“~Come along, fluffy.~”_ Anri patted Mitts' head.  _“~Our job here is done.~”_ He smiled, fondly, at Damian and whispered,  _“~Happy Halloween.~”_ And then they faded away.

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of rough to write. Turned out to be a lot longer than I expected, but.. somehow I persevered.
> 
> I want to hope it turned out good, because this was meant to be a gift fic to an amazing writer. Hopefully I was able to do Damian some sort of justice.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you have a great Halloween.


End file.
